Assassin's Creed III: Ratohnhake:ton and Akira
by steelfeather1776
Summary: After killing Charles Lee, Connor suddenly vanishes and reappears in modern-day New York, in the apartment of a twenty-year-old woman named Akira. Why is he there? My first fanfiction! *Rated M because there will be adult romance later in the story.
1. Chapter 1: Be Careful What You Wish For

I leaned back in the worn-out gamer chair, clutching my Xbox controller with cramping fingers. The AC in my apartment hadn't worked for a week, and my boy shorts and low-cut tank top were sticky with sweat. I had been playing Assassin's Creed III for the past couple of weeks, and even though it was my third time through the storyline, I still waited breathlessly for Connor to take out his final target. When the final credits started to roll across the screen, I took a swig of cold Mountain Dew and wiped my forehead with a towel.

I always felt an inexplicable sadness at the end of the game; it had become my favorite after my little brother introduced me to it about a year before. I could keep playing after the credits if I wanted, but it just felt empty. The conclusion was fairly realistic, but I had always wished that Connor's people weren't driven from their home.

After about fifteen minutes, the credits finally concluded, and I made myself macaroni and cheese out of a box for dinner. I was halfway through my first bowl when my cell phone rang, emitting the song "Mama" by My Chemical Romance. I answered after a deep sigh.

"Hi, Mom."

"Hey, sweetie. How's work? Is New York working out?"

"Mom… I have some bad news." I closed my eyes for a moment, knowing she couldn't see me. "They fired me a couple weeks ago."

"Ohh, why?" She still sounded loving, but I could hear disappointment creeping in. I didn't really blame her; I was her youngest, the twenty-year-old daughter who had dropped out of college after the first semester and burned through ten or eleven jobs in the big city. My family lived in Missouri, and I hadn't seen any of them in over six months.

"Apparently they objected to my new hair color."

"What color is it?"

"Bright red, and I cut it in a spiky pixie cut. I think it's super cute…"

"…Well, I'm sure you'll find a new job soon, right?"

"I already applied to a few, and I'm going job-hunting again Tuesday. I heard about a couple of clubs that need female bartenders, so I can put that license to use. How are the boys?"

"Oh, they're doing just great. Travis is talking to college scouts, and they're offering full ride scholarships for soccer…"

I continued catching up with my mother for about half an hour, shoveling bites of mac and cheese in my mouth every time she started talking. Once she finished briefing me on the latest news, she fussed about whether I was eating right or drinking enough water, and I cheerfully fudged the truth to her. I didn't want to tell her that I couldn't afford healthy food at the moment.

At the end of the conversation, I bid her goodnight and we exchanged I-love-yous before I piled my dirty dishes in the sink and went to the bathroom to wash my face.

I looked up into the mirror, scrutinizing my reflection. I was tall for a girl, and slender, with modest curves I had to work to keep on my body. My face was angular, with a small, subtle nose, full lips, and large amber eyes. I had been telling my mother the truth about my hair, and it looked good in contrast to my ever-pale skin. I had eleven piercings in my ears combined, into which I put sterling silver hoops, studs, and bars. I also had a belly button piercing, and a floral tattoo in between my shoulder blades which had the Kanji symbols for strength, honor, and love inscribed on it.

I wasn't bad-looking, but my problems had to do with the constant 'disagreements' I had with supervisors and managers. I didn't like having to work on their timetable, conform to their narrow-minded views, and generally give up my individuality in order to become a worker drone. I loved art, but none of my sculptures or paintings had generated any interest with the crowd here. Hard to believe some guy had painted a canvas blue with a white line and gotten $43.8 million, but that's life for ya.

I sighed, wishing I could dive back into the fictional world of Connor Kenway and the Revolutionary War. I knew it wasn't as romantic a time as I envisioned, but I craved a great adventure. I wanted excitement and adrenaline in my life. I was the type of person who liked rollercoasters, cliff diving, bungee jumping, skydiving, etc. I just wanted to feel that rush.

However, reality had to be faced. So I shambled into my bedroom, telling myself I needed to talk to the landlord tomorrow about getting the air fixed. I looked at my digital alarm clock, which said 11:11, and made a silly little wish.

"I wish I could have an adventure with Connor," I whispered. Then I climbed into bed and turned off the light.

I woke to a strange sound: a sort of loud whirring. I also saw a pale green light coming from under my door. Curiosity won out over my sleepiness, so I shambled out of my room toward the living area.

My Xbox was glowing fiercely. Frantic, I felt it with my hands, but it was perfectly cool in temperature. The green glow intensified, and I could swear I saw the outline of a tall, large figure forming right in front of me. I blinked, and Connor Kenway stood three inches from me in his assassin garb. My eyes were level with the hollow at the bottom of his throat.

"Aaaahh!" I shrieked and dove backwards for my pepper spray on the coffee table. Connor seized one of my wrists as I swung the bottle around and sprayed him square in the eyes. He growled, caught my second wrist, and then pinned me up against the wall with my arms above my head. He held both wrists easily in one huge hand, while he circled my throat with the other. I could practically feel bruises forming.

"Who are you? Where am I?" There was confusion and anger in his expression now.

I squeezed my eyes shut and rasped, "Not real… not real… not real…" Surely I hadn't gone totally insane now. This had to be some type of dream or hallucination. Though I could smell and feel him, which was strange… nope. Not real.

My breath was running out, and his grip did not loosen one bit. _"Who are you?!"_

Darkness ran in streamers through my vision, and I lost consciousness.

The first thing I was aware of as I woke was the fiery pain in my throat. Each breath rattled its way out of my damaged windpipe. Then I realized that I was laying in my own bed under the blankets, with Connor standing over me, his arms crossed and a neutral expression on his face.

I startled backwards about six inches, emitting a painful gasp. He didn't move, but kept staring at me.

"You're not real," I said.

"Why do you continue to repeat that?" he asked, rather irritably.

I covered my face with my hands and spoke through them. "Because you're just a story from two and a half centuries ago. If you're real, it probably means I'm insane now."

He pulled my hands away from my face and made eye contact with me. His golden brown eyes looked completely real, which made it worse. "Do you mean that I am in… the future?"

"I guess it would be the future for you," I answered tentatively. "This is the year 2014."

"Where am I?"

"New York City."

He seemed to remember he was still holding my wrists and let them drop to the covers.

"Has it… changed much?" I could see a sort of acceptance in him, along with a lot of confusion and no small measure of sadness. I answered as sensitively as I could.

"Well, yes. It's a lot bigger and busier now. And we've invented a lot of new things, so life is nothing like it was in colonial America."

At this, his expression sharpened. "You seem to know a lot about me. How?"

I took a moment to decide how to explain. "I played a video game about you. It's one way we tell stories now, though they usually aren't true. I played as if I _was _you."

He insisted I show him what I was talking about, so I booted up the Xbox and demonstrated, doing a couple of side missions while he watched. I even let him try for a moment, and he seemed to grasp the concept pretty well as I explained how the TV and other components worked.

After a few moments, he turned to me and abruptly stated, "I must have been sent here for a reason, which means you are meant to help me…"

"Akira," I supplied.

"Akira," he repeated, staring into my eyes. "You are going to help me accomplish whatever is needed here so that I may return to my own time."

Well. This little foray into insanity kept getting more interesting.


	2. Chapter 2: Dream World

"What do you want from _me?_" I asked skeptically.

"You know this time and culture," he replied implacably. "Your knowledge will help me blend in and locate targets more easily."

"Targets?" Oh, great.

"I imagine the Templars exist still. You will help me find them."

"_Will? _I don't _have_ to help you."

He took a couple of threatening steps toward me, and I involuntarily stepped back. I immediately regretted it, both because of my pride, and the fact that it placed me in a corner. Connor's face was only a couple of inches from mine; he spoke quietly, but the hair on the back of my neck still stood on end. "Will you stand against me?"

I inhaled a shaky breath. "That's not what I meant…"

"Then what?"

"It's just… you could ask for my help instead of demanding it. I don't like being forced to do anything."

His expression softened, and he backed away a little. "I am sorry. I did not realize how rude I was being. Akira, will you help me? I have need of you."

His sincerity was obvious, so I shrugged and replied, "Sure, I'll help you. What do you need?"

"I need knowledge about this… new world. I believe you can help me with that."

I thought about it for a moment. "What about a trade? I can teach you what you need to know, and you could train me. If you want my help, I need to be able to defend myself against the Templars." I was almost starting to believe all this was real, despite my better judgment.

He sized me up slowly, from head to toe. "Very well. When will we begin?"

I sighed, feeling sleep deprived and sore. "I'll teach you a few basic things tonight, but then I need to sleep. I'm exhausted."

A curt nod was his only reply. Reluctantly, I showed him around the apartment, which had almost no furniture in it, explaining such things as the microwave, shower, and toilet. I also spent over an hour teaching him how to use my laptop and find information on the internet.

I found my eyes starting to drift shut, and turned to Connor. "Tomorrow I can take you out and get you some clothes to blend in. For now, let's get some sleep." I paused a bit awkwardly. "I… don't have a couch or anything. My bed is pretty big, so I guess we can share."

He raised his eyebrows a little bit. "Are you sure? I can sit in that thing…" He gestured towards my gamer chair.

"No, it's falling apart. I really don't mind if we share, anyway." I tried to ignore the faint blush rising in my cheeks.

He nodded and sat on the bed with his back to me, pulling his moccasins off. I slipped under the covers, still in my pajamas, while he unlaced his arm braces and hidden blade. Next he carefully shed all of his weapons, laying them out neatly on the floor, and stripped down to just his trousers. I tore my eyes away from his broad, muscular back and rolled over on my side, facing away from him.

The bed shifted as Connor slipped in behind me, but I couldn't feel his body heat. I hadn't been lying when I said the bed was big; it was queen-sized, something my grandmother had passed on to me.

Even though I felt uncomfortable with a large, strange man in my bed, my breaths started to even out within a few minutes, and sleep sucked me under quickly.

The dream began as it always had, with me running through a thick forest. I was panting, my muscles burning from exertion. The woods were dark, menacing. I could hear them behind me again, hundreds of soft footfalls on pine needles, and I pushed myself faster.

As the trees flashed past on each side, dread curled in my stomach, my feet grew leaden, and my heart raced. I pulled up short as I entered a small clearing, staring straight at the wolves waiting for me.

There were too many of them to count, and they moved restlessly, like a river of blacks, reds, grays, whites, and browns. As many colors as they had, every wolf had burning amber eyes, and all of them were fixed on me. Their gazes were almost human in their intensity.

I trembled as they surrounded me, joined by the wolves who had been chasing me. They circled in tighter and tighter, but they didn't growl. No, what was completely eerie was the fact that they made no sound at all, just kept looking straight into my eyes.

A low chuckle raised the hairs on my neck, and I whirled around to look at _him. _He stalked into the clearing towards me, tall and arrogant, the wolves shrinking out of his way.

He was broad and muscular, with sandy blonde hair, but I could never focus on his face. It was as if it were shrouded in shadow. He stopped very close to me, bending over my face, using his size to intimidate.

"I've missed you, Akira," he murmured, almost against my skin. His breath smelled like fine brandy. He started to kiss along my jaw, slow, drugging kisses, working down. I let my head fall back, forgetting why I was afraid.

Suddenly, he grabbed my wrists in a painful grip, twisting until I whimpered. He pushed me to the ground roughly, landing in between my thighs, pushing my legs as far apart as they would go. There was no longer any sign of the wolves, only the distant whistling of the wind.

I tried to struggle, but I found my arms were tied behind my back with rough rope, the fibers biting into my wrists. I opened my mouth to scream, and couldn't force any sound louder than a broken whimper out of my throat.

He grabbed at my breast roughly, and I tried to shove my knee into his ribs. He slapped my face hard enough to draw blood, then reached for the zipper on my jeans. I panicked, thrashing wildly, even though I knew it would not help.

_Be calm…_

I couldn't be sure I had even heard that faint, familiar voice, but my struggles only increased. The faceless man was worming his hand inside my tight jeans, fingernails biting into tender skin, while his other hand held me down by my throat.

I began to hear a deep male voice, singing softly in an unfamiliar language. Though I couldn't understand the words, they were soothing, clearly a lullaby of some kind. I felt myself relaxing, sinking into the melody and voice. The faceless man was gone, my arms no longer tied, and a pair of tan, muscular arms encircled me from behind, gently cradling me. The forest was calm and quiet, and I slept with no more dreams.


End file.
